The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Bryan Washington Reads Haruki Murakami

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

The Hotel Is a Love Hotel, but You're Not Bothered, Are You?

Haco got the key at the front desk, and they took the elevator to the room. The windows were tiny compared with the absurdly big bed. Camuro hung his down jacket on a hanger and went to the toilet. When he emerged from the bathroom, comoro was surprised to see that kakossaki had left. Chima was still there, drinking beer and washing teve. Kaco went home. Shemou said, she wanted me to apologize and tell you that she'll be back to morrow morning. Do you mind if i stay here a little while and have a beer? No. Why not? Shima got a fresh beer from the refrigerator and

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